


Three Simple Rules

by eyesfixedonthesun22



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Desk Sex, F/M, Implied Age Gap, Office Sex, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Hopper, Punishment, Smoking, Smut, brat reader, canon typical cigarette use, just a bit jealous, not dd/lg, not dom!Hopper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 03:37:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20771912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyesfixedonthesun22/pseuds/eyesfixedonthesun22
Summary: Jim Hopper is a fan of three simple rules in all aspects of his life. Easy to follow. Uncomplicated. That is...until he decides to break rule #3, with his secretary, on his desk.





	Three Simple Rules

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first request! I hope I did your wish justice, @fandomfic-galore. 
> 
> Prompt: For the Jim fic I was thinking of something like he has a new PA and she gets caught doing something she shouldn’t. Something naughty and he wants to teach her a lesson in his office. Haha. After your exam of course.

It’s 10:15 a.m. There’s not a clock in sight but you know it must be true. The squeal and slam of the Blazer’s door followed by the heavy crunch of gravel up to the police station door are as good as second and minute hands. Hopper isn’t much for reliability in other areas but he is  _ reliably _ late to work. 

“You know that is just  _ so _ interesting.” 

The extra flirty inflections on your words is unnecessary, truth be told, but it felt like a cherry on top. You’ve slug your torso over the young deputy’s desk in a way that’s far too inviting. Your shirt, usually quite office appropriate but currently unbuttoned an extra button, crept down just deep enough you could tell he had a good look down your front. Your pencil skirt rode up high enough you  _ should _ move to adjust it but—

The door slams open as Jim Hopper enters the office. He’s mid-sentence, trying to brush off Flo’s chiding, when he greeted by a prime view of your ass propped up in front of him. 

“Is Callahan bothering you, sweetheart?” 

You can see his jaw tick and the tone of his voice is just above growl. Flo’s eyes flit back and forth between you and the chief. 

“I’m so sorry, Hopper. These young ones nowadays. She’s still learning her duties.” 

It’s true. You had only been hired as a secondary secretary at the Hawkin’s Police Department just about a month ago. In actuality, you were quite bright. You’d picked up on all the secretarial tasks rapidly. If anything, you were bored at your job. Which could possibly explain your current antics. 

Jim eyes you up and down analyzing the scene before him. His eyes pause on the swell of your breasts visible and plump under the undone button, the extra length of silky exposed thigh from your tight skirt, and then back up to your blushing cheeks. His eyes narrow and his nostrils flare. Busted. 

“That’s okay, Flo. I’ll have a word with her.” You and Florence begin to apologize in unison but it’s clear the topic isn’t up for discussion. Hopper places a large hand on your shoulder gently directing you to his office. “Let’s talk... _ alone _ .”

The last word had a deadly lilt to it. For a split second, you wonder if you’ve taken this whole thing too far. You don’t get to continue the thought as the heavy oak door of his office clicks closed. Hopper stalks over to the only window in his office and harshly tugs the blinds closed. It’s with an eerie grace, he sits down on the edge of his desk and lights a cigarette. 

“Hopper, I…” The look he shoots you stops you in your tracks. “Jim, I’m sorry.” 

He huffs a heavy cloud of smoke out from his lungs that would make a steam engine jealous. At the end of the exhale, his lips play into a sharp smirk as if he’s enjoying your discomfort. The two of you sit in the office in silence with only the clicking of his clock proving the time is passing. He stares you in the eye before beginning. 

“Okay, so let me get this straight in my head…” The pause between his sentences is pregnant with anticipation. He takes a long drag from his smoke and continues, “You thought it was a brilliant idea to flirt with Phil Callahan.”

“I can explain.”

“That wasn’t a question.”

“You’re the one who—” His brows raise towards his hairline but you trudge on with as much conviction as you can muster. “You’re the one who started something he couldn’t finish this morning.”

He takes a third drag; groaning as he exhales. The smoke curls in tendrils around the coarse hair of his mustache before dissipating into the room. The sound shoots tingles straight between your thighs. He strides with a grace all too foreign on his large frame and sits in the chair behind his desk. Another guttural sound escapes his lips while he contemplates your sin. The smoke and emotionally charged atmosphere have turned the small office into an oppressive sauna. 

“That’s fine. That’s just  _ fine _ .” His tone indicates it’s anything but fine. “You’re a needy little one aren’t you? Was last night not enough for you?”

The temperature of your skin, near boiling in anticipation, deepens across your chest and cheeks under his accusation. Despite the shame and heat radiating off your skin another heat has settled at the apex of your thighs. Hopper had made the terms of your arrangement  _ very _ clear. Three simple rules. 

  1. You were his and no one else's. He does not share. 
  2. This could end at any time. Attachment isn’t his thing.
  3. Absolutely zero discussion of the arrangement or acting “familiar” at work, in town, or around anyone else. 

Yet, here he wasn’t actively talking about the two of you,  _ like that _ , at work. Sure, you were behind closed doors in his office but that seemed menial protection at best.

“I asked you a question, dammit.” His hand slams on the desk. He manages to keep the volume of his voice in check. “Last night wasn’t enough so you thought it was a good idea to come in here advertise yourself like some ten dollar hooker for Phil?”

He’s not being fair. You had certainly been looking for punishment but he’s hitting low blows. Your instincts wants to curse and spit; anything to fight back and defend yourself. Your body seems to have other thoughts. The timbre and power behind his voice have you soaked and your brain clouded.

“I just wanted…”

“What? What did you want that was so damn important?” You hang your head shamefully. His posture changes. “I see. You  _ wanted _ to be punished.” 

The booming chuckle stings. You know it’s mocking. His first cigarette is gone. He tamps down the last of the ashes in the tray in time with his laughter.

“Well since you know best, get on with it.”

Your face screws up in confusion. What was he asking? For you to beg? Ask forgiveness? He couldn’t possibly be giving you what you want so easily. He flicks his lighter open and ignites before leaning back in his desk chair. He holds the white stick between his plump pink lips and rips open the belt and zipper of his pants. 

He takes a long drag. You always found it annoyingly attractive how he holds them, pinched tightly between his thumb and index, gesticulating with them when he needs to make a particular point in a conversation. The smoky undertones that cling to his lips whenever you dipped your tongue inside. 

“You know I looked up one time how long it takes a cigarette to burn down. Average is five to seven minutes. I even timed myself when I was younger and first started smoking. It’s a stupid thing.” You’re still paralyzed on the chair across from him waiting for the punchline. “I used to average five minutes. No idea how long it takes me now. You have until this is finished to do things your way, since you seem to want to call the shots, and bounce that pretty little ass up and down on my cock.”

“And when it's done?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see won’t you, sweetheart?”

You should have been embarrassed at the speed of which you jumped up to take his hardening cock out of his pants. You lick him only twice; engulfing him all the way into your mouth the second time before straddling his lap. You’re still sore from the events of last night. You ruck your skirt up higher and pull your panties to the side. You try to have him enter you slowly but his hips buck into you; stretching you so deliciously from the inside.

“Don’t pretend like you’re not dripping, sweetheart.”

He wasn’t wrong. He makes no move to touch your breasts or guide your hips. You’re on your own working yourself up and down on his length while trying to balance your weight on the desk chair. 

He’s leaned far back taking drag after drag off his smoke. When a quarter of it is gone, you’ve settled in your rhythm. When half is gone ripples of pleasure have settled low in your pelvis; the beginnings of something begging to be unleashed. When a quarter remains, your fists are bunched in Hoppers uniform biting the back of your hand to keep your pants and moans at an acceptable volume. The entire time Jim hasn’t moved. One hand is tucked smugly behind his head as he leans and the other only moves to bring the cigarette from the ashtray to his lips and back again. 

“Times up, sweetheart.” 

“Wait! I’m so close!” 

“I don’t fucking care! Times up!”

He stands, easily carrying the weight of you, and roughly presses your back against the cool wood of his desk with his own wood still deep inside you. His hulking frame hunches over you briefly planting a sloppy but much needed kiss on your lips. He tugs your hips off the desk so they’re supported only by his huge palms.

“Look down, baby. Look at me inside you. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to see you like this. Spread wide, taking my cock so fucking well on my desk.” Your core clenches as he pumps in and out of you wildly. You adored when he was like this; brutish and wild. A Hopper only you got to see.

A knock on the door interrupts your haze of lust. 

“The door isn’t locked! Hopper, the door isn’t locked?!”

“It doesn’t have a lock.” His palm smacks a stinging blow against your ass. “That doesn’t mean I’m stopping.”

His pace is bruising and brutal only interspersed by the occasional biting smack from his hands on your flesh. You feel yourself inch further away from him from the power of his thrusts. A frustrated hand grips you hip tightly and the other plants firmly on your neck. Using each pressure point of your body for leverage, he resumes his punishment. Another knock sounds against the door; louder and more urgent.

“I’m busy!” He bellows at the door. “Can you imagine it, sweetheart. Phil barging in here seeing you choked out, ass red, and taking my fat cock.” 

That nearly pushes you over the edge. Your tiny hand sandwiches his on your throat pressing a bit harder. He meets your gaze knowing what your asking. The pressure increases on your windpipe. You couldn’t tell him how much you loved it even if you wanted to. He grinds his pelvis into yours like he does when his own release is close. Another couple of thrusts and you’re clenching and spasming around him while he empties in you warm and sticky.

The first breath of air is cold and gulped down greedily. 

“Chief!” The knocking returns. “We got a call. I  _ really _ think we should go check this out.”

“In a second!” 

He kisses you tenderly and helps you straighten yourself before tucking himself back in his pants.

“Too far, sweetheart?”

“No, Hop. Just far enough.” 

“I don’t hate it by the way. The whole, flirting with the other guys in the office thing.” You straighten his tie and press out wrinkles in the shirt. “You were right. It turns me on. Knowing I’m the one to get to go home and be the one to fuck you into the mattress.”

“The only one, Chief.” 

You wink before throwing the door open to the office and returning to reality. Phil stands there eyeing the both of you guiltily. Before you make it back to your own desk, you hear him apologizing to Hopper.

“I’m sorry, Chief. Truly. Shouldn’t be acting like that here at work.” 

“You’re right, Phil. Don’t let it happen again.” He sneaks a glance at you, still preening from your words, while he shrugs on his blue jacket with the sherling lapels. “But between you and me, I think she kinda likes it.” 


End file.
